Law School Just Sucks

You guys, why didn’t you tell me law school was haaaard? It’s hard. Don’t get me wrong, it’s interesting. You lawyers have some brass balls. This week, alone, I’ve learned that an airplane is not a motor vehicle and that if you get caught selling drugs near a park, you should at least try arguing that it isn’t actually a park because they put in a basketball court instead of a slide-board. Whatever the fuck that is.

But it’s still hard. Have you seen how much there is to read? I love to read, I did a gawddamn PhD in reading. But this is not normal reading, you can’t just skim this crap and hope you get the point, you have to get all up in there and make sure you remember the details, because if you don’t, someone is going to be like, “but you forgot about little Sally’s colorful socks that clearly blinded that driver.” While you’re flipping pages in the 500 pound doorstop they call a text book wondering where the fuck anyone talked about little Sally’s stupid, shitty socks.

Anyway, all this to say, I don’t have time to entertain you fuckers right now. Because I have to figure out what happens if you quote one guy, who’s quoting another guy, who’s quoting a court, in a volume that managed to get published with a title that has 18 words, all of which have some mandatory and arbitrary abbreviation associated with them. Fuck you lawyers, fuck you. You took something I hate, citations, and turned it into some sort of Hunger Games-esq trial. How did you make citations suck harder? It’s like you worked at it.

And speaking of the Hunger Games, what the fuck is wrong with law students? Christ, you’re competitive. I don’t care how many times you sat the LSAT. Maybe you should worry less about the LSAT and more about answering a question that wasn’t in the book. That’s right, I see you. None of you little weasels are willing to go out on a limb and actually make a subjective choice. Fuck you: Joe Blow may be going down for assault, contrary to my belief, but at least I gave it a shot.

Oh and don’t get me started on second year students. What the fuck, man? You’ve been here a year longer than I have. I am sure everyone finds your droll humor at the expense of these terrified, tiny people who are just looking for the gawdamn bathroom hilarious. Wait, they do not. You are a bully. Also, stop trying to talk the tiny people into joining fifty million clubs and doing your scut work; thereby ensuring their demise as all of these essential committees and mandatory meetings slowly overwhelm their schedule, preventing them from actually finishing anything that, you know, would actually help them get through class.

Oh and tiny people – STOP emailing, messaging, facebooking, whatever the fuck else you are doing on the computer in the middle of the lecture. Listen. Take notes. Don’t take the notes on the computer, you can not trust yourselves. You know you shouldn’t be answering Uncle Mike’s email in the middle of class, but you obviously can’t help yourselves. This is what you have become:

I know. Ending with a video of cats is some sort of pandering bullshit, but I don’t actually care, because I have to go read three bazillion pages on the Intentional Infliction of Emotional Distress. And yes, it did take me the bulk of class to figure out that’s what “IIED” meant. And fine, for at least some part of that time period, I did think we were talking about improvised explosive devices. Whatever. It’s only the third week.